


Closer

by queerhaunt



Category: BioShock 1 & 2 (Video Games), Titanic (1997)
Genre: Angst, Crack Treated Seriously, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, this started as a joke and here we are
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2020-09-05
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:02:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26309011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queerhaunt/pseuds/queerhaunt
Summary: A year after escaping Rapture with Tennenbaum and the Little Sisters in tow,`Jack was in need of a vacation- and a relaxing cruise seemed the perfect remedy for his stress. After reuniting with an old friend, Jack begins to think he might actually enjoy himself. Unfortunately, another passenger happens to be an old enemy of his. Also, they're on the Titanic. Oops.
Relationships: Jack (BioShock)/Original Male Character(s)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 3





	Closer

**Author's Note:**

> This was written with the help of my friend Mira! Please check her out on instagram @harumira_art

The Titanic was a marvel in every sense of the word. For many it was feasibly the largest vessel they’ve ever seen. A beast of modern machinery from The White Star Line that would demonstrate how far the human race had come. We were a modern species with modern luxuries that all the rich could afford. It was a fine piece of machinery and a finer work of art. Looking up at that great ship was akin to craning your neck back during sunday service to study the painted ceilings and stained glass tableaus. It was dwarfing and magnificent, but Boat Inspector hadn’t the time for frivolous matters like religious comparisons. He was a busy man, after all.  
Boat Inspector was the ship’s boat inspector, and it was unfortunately also his name. Boat inspectors being on active duty throughout a cruise were considered fashionable at the time. All great ships had one aboard, and the Titanic could easily afford the expense. It was, of course, the finest ship to ever sail the Atlantic. This wasn’t necessarily true but Boat Inspector was sure to announce it loudly after every inspection, as he was told to do in his mandated boat inspection training.  
He whistled a half-remembered french song to himself as he made his way down to the back of the ship, the final stretch of his duties for the day. He nodded to the ladies and gentlemen in funny hats, who all passed him by without paying any mind. He was just the boat inspector, after all. More of a decoration than a crew member. Nevertheless, he felt pride and admiration for his profession. And when work was scarce, he could always conjure some for the dead eyed glance of a stranger who simply must notice the dedication he has to his career.  
At the stern, there were a handful of couples clutching each other as they watched the ocean crash beneath. A pair of twins were looming over the side railing before their mother scooped them both up in maternal panic. Boat Inspector breathed in the cool ocean air and sighed, absentmindedly fiddling with his dark moustache. Midday already and he was just about finished. Just in time for his afternoon tea. He took out his clipboard and began checking boxes.  
At the very far end of the stern, a girl of nearly twelve meandered over to a good enough place on the hardwood and began to stab at the cracks between the wooden slabs with a toy sword. The dull hammering was ignored by all except for Boat Inspector, who hurried over.  
He cleared his throat. “Excuse me, young lady.”  
The child stopped her work and looked up with round eyes. Her weathered clothes and messy hair fashioned her more like a stray cat than a girl. She smirked at him. “You got a funny accent.”  
Boat Inspector crossed his arms. “Well, I suppose I could say the same about you, couldn’t I?”  
“Nah you can’t. I sounds normal.” She began jabbing at the deck again.  
“No, no. Stop that. You cannot go around just,” he swung weakly at the air, “whacking things that aren’t yours.”  
“The floor ain’t mine? Well my pa paid for it.” She stood up defiantly. To Boat Inspector’s embarrassment the girl came up to just about near his own height.  
“Your pa paid for a ticket. He didn’t pay for this entire floor.” Others along the deck started to take notice of the two, some beginning to laugh.  
“Ya can’t prove he didn’t.”  
“Now you’re just being ridiculous. Now, would you please not damage White Star Line property.”  
“You act like jus’ like my gran’ma.”  
“Well, I’m sure she’s a wonderful lady.”  
“She’s an old hag.” And with that, she took her sword and scampered away, jumping over benches and pushing past onlookers as if she were in a chase.  
Boat Inspector huffed and dusted off his coat, watching the girl run off. “Children these days,” he grumbled, checking the final box on his clipboard.  
“Boat Inspector?”  
Opposite to Boat Inspector was a much taller, familiar man, rising from his bench. Those who looked on were quick to turn away with the sudden introduction of this character. He was too large in physique to go around with a heavy face of haunt and torment. It made people nervous. With his small luggage in a shaky hand, he stood stiff and uncertain. Boat Inspector grinned in return, recognizing him immediately.  
“Jack! My, how you’ve changed. How long has it been since I’ve last seen you?” He said, knowing that it had been exactly three years since Jack had to leave college. Last he heard, he was making a trip to England, though he hadn’t much for details. They didn’t really leave things on a comfortable note.  
Jack stood silently for a moment, making Boat Inspector a little more anxious with each passing second. Had he said something wrong? Eventually, Jack broke the silence. “You were real?”  
Boat Inspector blinked. “I believe so.”  
Jack shook his head, a smile creeping across his face. “I’d thought that all of it was just…”  
“Just what?”  
“Nevermind. It’s amazing to see you, B. Really.”  
“And you as well, Jack.” He took his old friend’s hand in a firm handshake. The action felt strange and formal considering their history. “Though I’m quite surprised to see you here. I never thought of you to be one for cruises.”  
“Oh, I’m not. Definitely not.” He laughed, and Boat Inspector didn’t understand the joke. “But a friend suggested it would be good for my health and all that. Besides, she bought the ticket already.”  
“You’re sick?”  
“No, no. Just in need of some relaxation. Her words, not mine.”  
Boat Inspector smiled warmly, “Well, perhaps I could tempt you for some tea?”

The second class smoking room was mostly empty around midday. At least, it was not nearly as crowded as it would be in the evening. The gentlemen’s club was complete with booze and complimentary cigars. A few men were huddled around a table towards the far corner playing a supposedly friendly game of poker. One particularly frustrated fellow nearly threw his head back into the wooden paneling behind him. The lone bartender distractedly polished a glass, waiting to see who would be the gentleman to commence the drinking. Jack considered it as Boat Inspector poured from his teacup, surprised that they would serve tea here. Boat Inspector looked up at him, seemingly reading his mind.  
“It’s my own pot. I’ve asked them to keep it here for me.”  
“Find it comfortable, do you?” Jack adjusted himself against his soft seating.  
“Oh, I would say so. But you should see what they have in first class. Beautiful paintings and chandeliers. It’s amazing, really. Who would’ve thought they could fit all of this onto one ship?” He poured some milk in his tea and offered some to Jack, who politely shook his head.  
“So, you’ve become a-”  
“A boat inspector, yes. It would be rather silly if I didn’t.” Boat Inspector smiled, taking a sip of his drink. “And what about you? Still an artist?”  
Jack stared blankly for a moment before, “Ah, yes.” He held his cup close to his lips, like he was speaking to his drink rather than his old friend. “No, I don’t suppose I am anymore.”  
“Why is that?”  
Jack sat motionless for a second or two. He looked focused, his words stumbling out with a careful confidence. “I just don’t really have time for it. Not these days.”  
“So what is it you’re doing now? Back on the farm?”  
Jack looked down, “No.”  
“Oh.”  
The two men sipped their tea in silence, awkwardly. It had been only a few years, but a lack of contact can distance a relationship more than any number of awkward encounters could, much to Boat Inspector’s dismay. He supposed he had himself to thank for that, especially considering how they left it. He thought of ways to broach the subject, but every scenario that played in his head promptly seized him with embarrassment.  
Much to his relief, Jack broke the silence,“I do a lot of contract work. Lifting and unloading, sometimes construction. Nothing that takes me too far away from the girls.”  
“The girls?”  
“My daughters.”  
Boat Inspector choked on his tea. The few patrons in the smoking room turned their heads to face the two, as the inspector gave a few swift punches to his own chest. Jack leaned forward, wary.  
“You alright, B?”  
“Yes, yes,” Boat Inspector waved dismissively, composing himself. “I just never pictured you as a father, I suppose.”  
Jack smiled despite the melancholy in his eyes, “Well, a lot can change in a few years.”  
“It seems so,” he took another sip of his tea, his eyes downturned in thought. Change was natural, but this was plenty more change than he could have ever anticipated. “And your friend you mentioned? She’s the mother, I take it?”  
“No. Well, yes. Actually-” he placed down his cup. “It’s complicated. But no, she’s not the mother. And we’re not, y’know, together or anything.”  
“So who is the mother?”  
“I’m not sure, exactly. They’re adopted.”  
Boat Inspector began to nod slowly, beginning to understand. “Ah, I see.”  
“They had nowhere else to go,” Jack began to gaze off somewhere in the middle distance, when a polished man entered the club from behind him. His elegant cane clicked against the marble floors, and as Boat Inspector glanced over for just a moment, he wondered as to why he wasn’t in the first class area. Jack continued, “And I owed it to them. They saved me.”  
“Saved you?”  
“It’s a long story.” He shook his head, snapping out of his distant stare.  
“Well, you’ve certainly piqued my interest.”  
“It’s a very, very long story. And I doubt you’d ever believe me if I told you.”  
Boat Inspector laughed a little, “Oh, I don’t know about that. Might I remind you of all the trouble you dragged me into in college? If I hadn’t been there myself, I doubt I’d believe it.”  
“This isn’t that kind of…” As his eyes fell upon something behind his friend, his words slowed and stopped. His hand fell limply to the table, suddenly overtaken with the weight of his cup. He looked as though he was seeing a ghost.  
“Jack? What is it?” Boat Inspector turned to see the man with the cane, leaning against the bar with drink in hand. He looked almost as shocked as Jack was, though he was certainly trying to hide it with the long sip of his scotch. The three stared silently for an eternity, or at least for as long as it took for the stranger to finish his entire drink. He slammed the glass on the counter and began to make his way over to the table, the click of his cane echoing through the room like gunshots. Boat Inspector felt a chill run up his spine, which was odd since he was certain he had triple checked the superior quality of the ship’s interior heaters that very morning.  
“Jack,” the stranger stated. Jack remained in dumbfounded silence, frozen in place. A few moments passed as Jack’s face slowly morphed from disbelief to terror. Growing nervous, Boat Inspector cleared his throat. “Um, pardon me.”  
The stranger slowly turned his head towards him. He studied the other man for a moment, apparently noticing him for the first time. He then smiled thinly, “Jack and I are old business partners.” He gingerly extended a hand toward the man. “The name’s Fontaine.”  
Boat Inspector hesitated a moment before taking it, glancing back over to Jack who looked like he was about to run for it. “Boat Inspector.”  
“Hm?”  
“Boat Inspector. It’s my name.”  
Fontaine stared blankly for a moment. “Your name’s Boat Inspector?”  
Boat Inspector nodded, “I’m the ship’s boat inspector.”  
“And it’s also your name?”  
“That’s right.”  
Jack suddenly stood up, the chair screeching loudly against the floor. His legs collided against the table, knocking over his cup. Almost as soon as it happened, the heavy crack of Fontaine’s cane collided with his shoulder. Jack winced at impact and stood paralyzed.  
Fontaine stared daggers at the man as he shifted his weight, leaning against the table for support. The idle chatter and ambience of the smoking room fell deathly silent as the rest of the patrons in the smoking room had turned their chairs to watch the scene before them.  
“You heading somewhere, kid?” Fontaine grinned like a dog baring its teeth. “We’ve got a bit of catching up to do, don’t we?”  
Jack’s eyes, lit with anger and confusion, tilted up to Boat Inspector. He cocked his head to the side, motioning the frenchman to leave. Fontaine didn’t seem to care, still pushing the length of his cane against Jack’s shoulder.  
Boat Inspector hesitated before clumsily stuttering out, “I-I suppose it’s getting late. I should take my leave-”  
“Oh, that won’t be necessary,” Fontaine interrupted. “The two of us were just leaving.” He lowered his cane, shifting his weight back onto it. “Jack, would you kindly follow me to my office?”  
Fontaine turned to leave, and though he tried to resist Jack immediately followed suit. As they were nearing the door, Jack turned his head to look at Boat Inspector one final time. He appeared as though he wanted to say something. Soon, Fontaine disappeared behind the door with only the increasingly distant clicking of his cane remaining. And soon after, Jack was gone as well.  
After a long and uncomfortable spell, the conversation in the club began to slowly creep up back to it’s usual hum. Boat Inspector sat at his lonely table, taking a hesitant sip of tea as he watched the door swing back and forth like a pendulum until it settled.

Fontaine sat at his desk with feet risen, cigar in hand, and composure hanging by a thread. Jack stood in the centre of the room, fists clenched at his side, itching for a pistol. Though even if he had one, he felt rather outnumbered judging by the bodyguards waiting outside.  
Much to his horror, Fontaine was quite a bit less fluorescent blue and dead than he recalled. He wondered how this could’ve happened. Maybe he was delusional, and he never left Rapture at all. He tried to tell himself that such worries were impossible, but he had been subjected to things far more unbelievable. Fontaine tapped his cigar and let the burning ash fall into a golden ashtray. Fancy, Jack noted. He thought the ceiling was very pretty as well. He found himself noticing all sorts of pretty things here. At least he would have something to stare at when Fontaine finally got it over with.  
“Well if it isn't Jack fucking Bioshock,” Fontaine sneered, finally breaking the agonizing silence. “Couldn’t let sleeping dogs lie, could you?”  
Jack blinked in response.  
“Jesus,” he rolled his eyes. “I know you can talk, kid. You were gabbing on with that french tub back there-”  
Jack snapped, “What are you doing here?”  
Fontaine laughed disbelievingly, “What am I doing here? Are you serious? What are you doing here?” He took an angry puff of his cigar. “Of course you’re a passenger on the Titanic. Just my luck. Y’know what, Jack? You’re never where I want you. You’re like a fucking parasite. I can’t get you out of my goddamn life.”  
Jack fought the urge to smile and kept his face level. Still, he found it difficult to resist the urge to badger him further. If he was going to die, he reasoned, he might as well get a word in or two. “How are those stab wounds healing up for you? End up scaring away everyone in Rapture so you had to come up here? Trick someone else into your little evil plan?”  
Fontaine leaned forward, smearing his cigar on the ashtray. “Cute.” He stood from his desk and began to walk circles around his office, like a shark surrounding its prey. “Rapture was fun. And you really made me work for it, I gotta admit. But unfortunately, once I got it,” he stopped. “Everyone was fucking dead. Suppose I’ve got you to thank for that.” Suddenly, he laughed. “Oh, wait. I mean dead or adopted.” He shook his head, grinning. “You, a father. Ain’t that just priceless. Are the little monsters with you, might I ask? Or are you just as good of a father as your old man?”  
Jack’s nostrils flared as he attempted to swallow his anger. He pressed further, “So, you on your way to rule another city?” He laughed bitterly. “Hate to tell you this, but a fake accent or two will only take you so far in New York.”  
“Oh, I ain’t taking over the big apple, kid. I’m gonna go higher. I’m taking over the Titanic.”  
Jack took a pause. “You just want the Titanic?” He blinked, shaking his head. “What are you going to do with a luxury cruise ship? Take these people hostage?”  
“Hardly. This is going to become my new empire. My new Rapture. And with my new plasmids, these suckers are going to be eating outta the palm of my hand.”  
Jack laughed, “You can’t be serious. You remember Rapture, right? Were the corridors of drugged up splicers completely wiped from your memory? And-” he brought his hand against his temple like he had a headache. “What happens when you run out of food? Or fuel?” He let out another small laugh, muttering to himself. “I can’t believe it. I knew you were already crazy but this is stupid.”  
Fontaine scoffed, “Well, what do you know? You’re just a tool for other people to use. Just a little lab rat that escaped from it’s maze. Which brings me to my next point,” he paused. “What am I gonna do with a freak like you?” He emitted a low chuckle, “With just a word, I could have you walk off the side of this ship. With just a word,” he bent his hand to the shape of a gun and raised it to his temple. “I could have you take a gun and just,” he cocked his head to the side, “boom.”  
It’s three words actually, thought Jack. He adjusted his posture, looking down at the thin man. “Did you just bring me here just to intimidate me? If you’re going to kill me just get it over with.”  
He chucked, “Oh, but where would the fun be in that?” Despite himself, Jack breathed a sigh of relief. So he wasn’t going to kill him. Not yet, anyway. Fontaine continued, “You wanna cut to the chase, I can respect that.” He made his way back to his seat. “Over the past year since I’ve escaped from that sunken shitshow, I’ve been establishing contacts here on the surface. Contacts that are very resourceful, if you catch my meaning.” Jack raised an eyebrow, and Fontaine sighed. “What I’m saying is that if you try anything I’ll find wherever you’re keeping those little ghouls and that quack doctor, and I’ll have the lot of ‘em killed. And believe me, it won’t be quick.”  
Jack’s fist shook, barely restraining himself from lunging across the desk and smashing his head into the wall. “You son of a-”  
“But you wouldn’t want that to happen, ain’t that right? Now, I’m not quite the forgiving sort, but I also hate to waste my resources. I’m willing to strike up a sort of deal with you.” He rested his chin against his knuckles, smiling at Jack who could do nothing but listen. He continued, “What I suggest is that we put you to good use. All you’ve got to do is function how you were built to. As long as you follow orders, we ain’t gonna have a problem.”  
Jack was grinding his teeth hard enough to bring on a headache. Even if he wasn’t back in Rapture, it certainly felt like it. No matter how much he’d built for himself, the chains on his wrists remained heavy enough to drown him. He sighed, “What do you need?”  
“Just some errands, is all. I want this to become a new Rapture, and I’m sure you’re familiar that sometimes things need to be dealt with physically.” He looked to the side for a moment before pulling out a monochrome photograph of the Titanic’s crew. Despite the lackluster quality Jack’s eyes were immediately able to pick out Boat Inspector, standing proudly with a puffed chest on the sidelines. Fontaine began to circle a few faces with dark ink, and to Jack’s relief Boat Inspector was not one of them. Fontaine elaborated, “The shift in ownership has gone over well enough, but we’ve still got some kinks that need smoothing over. These men have been a tad vocal about their displeasure. I need you to deal with them.”  
Jack took the photograph and studied the men’s faces. They looked confident in their cook uniforms and were standing leaning towards one another. He didn’t need him to do this, thought Jack. This was just a test. He almost ripped the photo apart, but the thought of his daughters in danger brought a devastating weight to his chest. He took a shaky breath and stuffed it in his pocket, nodding.  
“Atta boy, Jack,” Fontaine leaned back in his chair and whistled, pulling another cigar from seemingly out of nowhere. Two of the men outside, both as tall as Jack and nearly twice as heavy, came inside and stood by the door. Fontaine lit his cigar, “These two men here will see you out. I expect it to be done by tonight.”  
Jack didn’t move.  
“There somethin’ you wanna say, kid?” Fontaine narrowed his eyes.  
“Why are you keeping me alive? I killed you once, I could kill you again.”  
Fontaine laughed, smoke leaving his mouth in little clouds. “But you won’t. You can’t.” He took another long drag of his cigar, blowing up towards Jack’s face. “I ain’t alone on this ship, boyo. But you? You’ve got nothin’. Now would you kindly let these men see you out.”  
Jack begrudgingly did just that, not that he had much of a choice in the matter. The men practically shoved him out, causing him to stumble a bit as they once again took their places outside of Fontaine’s office.  
Jack hesitated before making his way down the hall, thoughts racing in his mind. He wasn’t about to kill these men, was he? If he did he’d just be proving to Fontaine that he has complete power. But if he didn’t his daughters-  
Turning the corner, Jack nearly fell back in surprise to see Boat Inspector in front of him. His friend jumped in surprise as well, nearly spilling the cup of tea he was carrying in hand.  
“Oh! Jack, I’m so glad I caught you. You forgot your luggage at the table!” He held up Jack’s small leather bag with his other hand. “And I brought you some more tea since you had to leave so abruptly-”  
“B, what are you doing here?” Jack whisper-shouted, looking over his shoulder and moving further behind the corner, out of sight from Fontaine’s men.  
“Looking for you, of course. Your friend seemed rather intense so I grew a little worried.”  
“Listen B, you can’t- thank you,” he took the luggage but left the tea. “You can’t come around here, okay?  
“Jack, are you alright? You’re shaking.”  
“I’ve just got a cold, is all.”  
“Well, I’m glad I brought the tea!”  
Jack smiled weakly, eyes darting around the corridor to see if others were present. “Yeah, yeah. I’m sorry, B. I’ve got to go.”  
Boat Inspector stood up straight, realizing he had little time. “Jack, there was something I wanted to talk about. I don’t know if you recall, but back in college-”  
“B, I’m sorry. I’m really sorry but I can’t talk right now. We’ve got to leave. Both of us.” Jack gave his friend a quick touch on the shoulder. “I’m sorry. Please, just go and enjoy your tea, yeah? I’ll see you later.”  
“But your tea-”  
Jack was already gone, rushing down the hall with suitcase in hand. Boat Inspector watched him leave just as he had done before, teacup in hand. Boat Inspector peeked around the corner where Jack had come from, and saw two large men in rugged dress standing with crossed arms by a door. They looked at him, and he nodded, “Gentlemen.” They only glared in response. Boat Inspector gulped, “Right. Sorry.”  
Dejected, he meandered in place for a moment before taking a sip of Jack’s tea and began to make his way back to the smoking room. There was still some time before it would be busy. As he walked, he cursed himself for wasting another opportunity to resolve what they had left behind in college. Seeing Jack on the Titanic of all places seemed as though Lady Fortune herself was giving him another chance. But now, he wasn’t so sure.  
He shook his head and brought his thoughts elsewhere. Perhaps the smoking room carried biscuits? He’d have to ask. They would go nicely with his tea.


End file.
